kalokairi
by CalaveraCandiedSkull
Summary: - drabble dump, multiple pairings. #08: Flaxus - Looking at him with his electric, bright blue eyes, Flare wondered how a son could possibly be so different from his father.
1. be stupid together - nalu

**-What's this? Oh nothing, just a place for me to dump little romantic 1000-words-or-less things I write. When I say multiple pairings may appear, I mean it. Expect ****NaLu, GaLe, Gruvia, Jerza, ElfEver, MiFri, LiBix, Baccana, AlBi, RoWen, Charpy, Lily/Shagotte, StiYu, Kinabra, Ren/Sherry, LyTear, Lories, Scorparius, Hisui/Arcadios, Makarov/Porlyusica, Layla/Jude, Zervis, plus the Edolas-versions of all aforementioned pairs. Not saying I have it specifically planned, it's just a warning that I might. And if any new pairings appear in my ships, I'll be sure to make a note of it. I don't want anyone saying 'eww, why that pairing' well I told you so!**

**-This one is inspired by/dedicated to Hikari1127, who wrote this little thing called 'gone with the wind' that had me in tears.**

**-Let's just pretend Eclipse is still a cannon.**

* * *

_be stupid together - nalu_

* * *

He is standing directly in the way of the cannon.

Her legs pound against the ground, she can feel the blood rushing through them as every muscle in her body screams at her to stop, except her heart. That tells her to push on, and she does, opening her mouth to scream at him because he is standing right in the way of the cannon and _why doesn't he move?_

His name is finally torn from her lips in a ragged gasp, because that's all she can manage in this half-alive state.

"_Natsu!"_

He cracks his neck over his shoulder, bones grinding together so loudly she can hear it over the din of the battle. He's about as alive as she is, but still he manages to spread his bleeding lips in a grin.

"Hiya, Luce."

She can't slow down by the time she reaches him, and instead grabs his arm, using her momentum to make him move. Or at least, she tries. His legs are rooted to the ground, and she is nearly thrown to her knees from the force.

"Natsu!" She screams again. "Move!"

He shakes his head. "I can't. Look."

And he points a trembling, mangled finger at the sky.

She sees it like a black dot, tiny, but hurtling towards them. It will be a few minutes before it arrives, but even from that distance she knows exactly what it is and exactly what it means.

"_Acnologia_."

The word tastes like battery acid on her tongue, and he nods. His eyes are fastened to the black spot on the sky. She knows without even asking what he plans to do. He is going to stay here and fight it, even though he knows he has no chance in hell of winning, just to buy their friends half a minute of extra time.

But how could she be expecting anything else? He's the dumbest, densest, stupidest person she knows.

"You idiot." She is gasping, heaving for air. Maybe she's punctured a lung. At this point, nothing seems to matter anymore. Almost all the others are dead, or dying, or somewhere in between. At some point, she lost grip with the reality of it all and stopped crying when their eyes closed.

But not right now. She's crying right now, because she can't lose Natsu. Not him.

Tears carve rivers down her cheeks, painful, stinging and mingling with the blood. But she still grips his arm tight. "Natsu, please," she begs, voice hoarse. "_Please_."

"You should probably go," he says, not tearing his eyes from the black spot in the sky, body tensing.

"No, I'm not leaving you." She can barely say it over her sobs. "Natsu, come on. You're being _stupid_-"

Then all of a sudden, it happens. The black dragon breaks the distance barrier like an explosion, shaking the sky and the earth with it. The already unstable ground gives way under Lucy's feet, and she falls, tumbling to the ground just out of Natsu's reach. She lands hard on her arm, twisting and snapping it. An animalistic cry escapes her, and it jolts Natsu out of his daze.

"_Lucy!"_

The world blackens for a moment. When it comes back, it's in slow motion. Natsu is standing, looking down at her, eyes wide as though only seeing her for the first time. As if only seeing just now that her arm is broken, probably beyond repair, and every inch of her skin is mottled with bruises, and she might not live to see another day.

Behind him, the dragon has landed in a roiling, coiling mass. It opens it mouth to roar, but it's slow. Too slow; for Natsu is looking at her and nothing but her. Her whole world has gone crackly and bright.

With his hand outstretched toward her and a great smile on his gaunt face, caked in blood and dirt and grime, Lucy thinks he has never looked more handsome.

"Then let's be stupid together," he says, voice loud and clear over the distant cries of war.

She takes his hand with her good arm, and he hauls to her to her feet. The dragon roars and the cannon fires, but none of that matters.

Because they are together.

* * *

**-Also inspired by 'The Mark of Athena', page 568, where I've left my heart and may not get it back.**


	2. something there - gale

**Because you know this conversation happened.**

* * *

_something there - gale_

* * *

"That _hurt_!"

"If you'd hold still, it wouldn't _hurt_ as much!"

She glared up at him, eyes flashing in defiance even as he looked down, teeth gritted. The bandage on his arm was a hundred times too tight, but he blamed that all on her tiny hands pulling it.

Why she insisted on dressing his wounds, he had no idea.

"Well, if you hadn't have run away, this wouldn't have happened." True enough. It was her fault for running off into the forest and getting ambushed by some chicken.

She pulled the bandage a little tighter, shouting angrily. "If you hadn't teased me, I wouldn't have run away!"

Ah. There was that.

Neither were aware of the audience that had gathered to watch them, hiding behind wooden tent beams and canvas. Forget tending to their own battle wounds, this was much more interesting.

He snatched his arm out of her hands, releasing it from the death-grip she had on the cloth. "Well, you shouldn't have been being so pouty."

"Well, you should learn to control your temper!" She jabbed a finger in his face, and he started back. Annoyed, he watched out of the corner of his eye as she dipped a rag in water and squeezed it.

"Now hold still," she said, and although there was still an edge to her voice, it had quieted a bit. "This might sting a little."

With now surprisingly gentle fingers, she took his other forearm and drew it towards her. There was still quite a bit of blood caked on it, and some burns from the crazy exploding eggs. She dabbed the cloth on the wound and he hissed involuntarily.

"By the way," she started, and this time her voice was much softer. Glancing at her, he saw her gaze was downcast and she was worrying her lip between her teeth. Her eyes flickered up to his for a second, and he looked away quickly. "Thank you. For saving my life."

He kept his gaze away as he answered.

"You're welcome."


	3. eternal - gruvia

**This one is a special shout-out to Calm-Waters, who by some means of black magic is always there to review me, even when I don't think it deserves a fave. Love ya, girl.**

* * *

_eternal - gruvia_

* * *

i.

Juvia's body is made of water.

But ice is just another form of water.

(Maybe Gray is another form of Juvia?)

She is not hard like the earth

nor strong like fire

nor does she have the force of the wind.

She is nothing.

(But she is eternal, Gray thinks to himself, in the twilight moments between awake and asleep when he hardly knows his own mind.)

Juvia sometimes wishes her body was made of ice. Then she could be everything

-hard as the earth,

strong as a fire,

forceful as the wind-

she could be everything to him.

Everything is much better than nothing.

ii.

Juvia's body is made of water,

and Gray's heart is made of ice.

(Even if he doesn't know it – it's been made of ice ever since the night he let go of someone he was not prepared to let go of.)

By that logic, aren't they perfect for each other?

-Juvia reasons, as she turns her hand into a puddle and reforms it, just for fun. Puddle, hand. By that logic, she and Gray should be unstoppable together. Puddle, hand. By that logic, they could strengthen each other. They could support the other. Puddle, hand. By that logic, they are soulmates. Puddle, hand.

(She doesn't do it for fun. She does it for attention; for Gray to look up and to realize what she has known all along.

He never does.)

iii.

Juvia's body is made of water

and it's like an ocean in the way she moves.

Gray watches her when she isn't looking

(when she isn't looking, because he doesn't want her to see him watching

and get the wrong idea)

with eyes like a hawk. And that's what he thinks

that she is like the ocean.

Ocean in her eyes

ocean in her hair

ocean in her smile.

Endless and eternal

(and it reminds him too much of someone he's still trying so hard to forget.)

So he turns away.

iv.

Juvia's body is made of water

and because of that, it is near indestructible

something he's grateful for, because it means he doesn't ever have to worry about her getting hurt.

(like someone else did.)

Maybe that's why it scares him so much

when he sees the attacks hitting her.

Apparently, black wind does a lot more damage that he thought.

It's awfully hard for him to focus on the fight

when the only thing he can think about is Juvia

and that her body is made of water

and that she shouldn't be making such awful sounds

because she isn't supposed to be hurt.

She is Juvia, and she is eternal.

v.

Juvia's body is made of water.

But then, ice is just another form of water.

His hand is on her shoulder

- and suddenly she is harder than the earth,

stronger than any flame,

and more forceful than the winds.

She is water

eternity unto itself

and he is ice

just another form of her.

Together

they win.


	4. life - ultear

**-started off as a Gruvia but somehow turned Ultear-centric..? idk but it took me five days to get past the first sentence without shriveling up and running away**

**-because I think this is what will happen**

**-women need to stop giving their lives for Gray I mean jeez no wonder he has a truckload of emotional commitment issues**

* * *

_life - ultear_

* * *

It all happened too quickly, Meredy thinks, too quickly for any of them to have the proper reaction.

It all happened too slowly, Lyon thinks, like time had slowed to an almost incomprehensible stop and none of them could move.

It all happened too soon, Juvia thinks, too early for him leave her.

It all happened too late, Gray thinks, all their screaming and crying and fighting for him was too late to stop him from filtering away.

The time is not on their side, Ultear thinks, but if there is one thing that has always been by her side it is time.

She knows it has happened when the sky turned as gray as his name, and the raindrops began to hit her face and mingle with the dried, salty tear tracks. And she knows, because there is only one person in the world who could make it rain this hard.

She also knows because she hears the scream halfway across the city.

From the moment she first learned of her mother's sacrifice, Ultear has wondered why. Why would she give her own life for Gray Fullbuster? Why was his life so important that she had to give her own to protect it? She has never really understood it, but always assumed that it was not a conscious choice, merely a split-second decision to save him because that's what people do when the ones they love are in danger.

Only now, Ultear sees. She sees his broken, mangled and bloody body, cradled in the arms of a beautiful woman with eyes as blue as her tears. She sees the man named Lyon, face pale and shaking hands moving everywhere in some vain attempt to do something. She sees Meredy, her dear Meredy, standing back with her hands over her mouth and an insurmountable wealth of pain on her face.

Ultear sees, and she _understands._

Because Gray Fullbuster was life. He had life, it filled his veins and danced in his arms and sang in his eyes. And everywhere he went life followed, like snowdrops shooting up through the snow. He was meant to live, to embrace his life fully until he was one hundred and twenty, and even then he could probably live some more. He was certainly resilient enough.

Ultear did not realize how much the world needed the life of Gray Fullbuster until she was forced to imagine a world without it.

She knows then, why her mother would give her life to save Gray Fullbuster's. Ultear thinks that maybe there was nothing her mother wouldn't have done to keep that life shining bright. She did it, consciously, and would have done it a thousand times over again if given the choice.

It will be easy enough for Ultear to do the same.

She won't be dying, not really. Merely helping someone else to live.

And for the life of Gray Fullbuster, she thinks, it would be worth it.

_Ur raises her hands, forming the stance she knew by heart. She once thought that, if ever forced to make this decision, she would be terrified out of her mind, perhaps too afraid to even perform the spell properly._

_But as she looks over her shoulder to the small face behind her, she feels no fear. Only love, and a swelling sense of accomplishment._

_Because of her, this little boy will live. He will live, and love, and grow until he is a hundred and twenty, or perhaps even longer, he is resilient enough. _

_Because she may be losing her life, but for the life of Gray Fullbuster, she thinks, it will be worth it._


	5. vent - bixanna

**-Amenah and I were discussing Lisanna, and this happened. Probably more to come. Mm, embrace the Bixanna~**

**-Some people have been wondering about the title, so I'll explain quickly. Kalokairi is the name of thee fictional island in Greece where the musical Mamma Mia! is set. It's supposedly the location of Aphrodite's Fountain. One sip of the water would bring you true love and perfect happiness. (don't know about you but I'll have a glass of that)**

* * *

_vent - bixanna_

* * *

She leans against the worn couch, sliding down the seat. She opens her mouth, but no real sound comes out. It's more of a 'blehh.' She hears the key in the lock, and soon the chipper chatter of his dolls fill the room and signify he's home.

"What are you doing here?"

She raises her eyes to meet his, not even bothering to answer. He amends that statement with an annoyed, "Fine. How did you get in?" The dolls swirl around her head, nudging her face and shoulders and murmuring, '_How?_'

"I let myself in," she gestures to his open window. He crosses his arms over his chest, but says nothing. Finally, it seems, he has caught on to her disheveled state.

"You okay?" He asks then. Once again, she declines to answer, merely looks at him. One of his dolls whispers, '_dumb question_.'

"I'll get you a drink," he mumbles, heading over to his fridge. "You want anything in particular?"

She lets out another noncommittal noise, so he grabs two beers and heads back to sit beside her. "So," he starts in a falsely complacent voice. "Anything you want to talk about?"

They have been friends for a while now, Lisanna and Bixlow. No one really knew why. He doesn't even know why. But she's good company, so he never questions it if she wants to hang with him when her siblings were off on dates with his teammates. She's been coming over to his house for about a month, and more recently it hasn't just been when her siblings and his teammates are on dates. Sometimes, she comes of her own volition. This he also does not understand; but again, she's good company, so he doesn't question it and merely offers her drinks and bad movies.

Tonight she looks in worse shape than usual. He cracks the lid of the beer with his teeth, and hands it to her. Wordlessly, she gulps. He watches the muscles in her throat. "Seriously, you're too quiet. What's up?"

It takes her a second of deliberation to answer. "Have you ever felt...like, people are always expecting you to be something, and you just don't want to be that?"

He can't say that he has. "No, but I take it you have."

'_Have!_'

She takes another gulp. "Bixlow, what's my reputation?"

"Huh?"

"At the guild. What's my reputation?"

"Uh..." He feels like he's walking on land mines. "A good girl, I guess?"

She exhales. "Exactly!" Another swig. "A good girl. Nice. Sweet. Kind. That's me! Sweet old Lisanna, never says a bad word about anyone!"

Her voice has climbed to hysterics, and she quiets herself by drinking again. "I wish I didn't always have to be so _nice_."

They way she says the word, _nice_, is like a disease on her tongue. Bixlow glances at his dolls, all of which have gone strangely silent. He jerks his head, telling them to get to the kitchen and wait there. They fly out, leaving just him and her and the bottle.

"So? Anyone in particular you hate?" He asks her, crossing his ankles like a therapist. She snorts and shoves a hand in his direction.

"You aren't my doctor."

"No, but I'm your friend." He grins. "Your buddy. Your pal!"

She throws her hands in the air. "You! I hate you!"

"Lies."

"I told you, it's not that I hate anyone. 'Cause I don't."

"No? Not even Lucy?" He's goading her along.

She throws her head back and lets out a bark of laughter, and he notices in the dim light that she had slightly sharper canines than usual. He wonders if that has anything to do with her magic. "Wanna know a secret?" She says, leaning on her knees.

"Sure."

"When I was in Edolas..." she takes a deep breath. "Well, the Lucy over there? I _hated_ her. She was so mean! And especially to poor Natsu – oh! Did I mention? Now that the war's done over there, those two are probably getting married. Wish I could have seen that. Natsu probably would have worn the dress."

He snorts at the image of Salamander stuffed in a white gown. She laughs, too. "I know, right? But here was my issue. She treated him so horribly, and I was terrified that over here – in Earthland – that there was a Lucy treated Natsu like dirt. And I was also scared she was going to hate me...you know, 'cause I used to like Natsu? Like she'd be scared I was gonna try and steal her man back."

"And? Were you?"

She gives him a pointed look. He raises his hands in defense. "Hey, just a question. So, the cosplay girl. Was she as bad as you dreamed?"

"No!" She shakes her head vehemently. "I love her! She's so sweet, and she and Natsu, they belong together." All the shaking seems to have made her dizzy, and she stops in favour of taking another few chugs. Then, with a groan, she leans over and falls on his lap.

This was bad. She's only halfway done the bottle, and already drunk as a skunk. "You know why I like you?" She murmurs, nestling into his legs.

"Why?" He tries to ignore how close she is to him. Or what she could possibly mean by 'like.'

"Cause," she yawns. "When I'm with you, I don't have to worry about being nice all the time. I can just...vent. You know?" Her eyes close. "It's a nice break."

Then she giggles. "Hehe, _nice_."

Then she falls asleep.

He lets out a puff of air. Boy, she must have had a lot of pent-up emotions in there. Well, he supposes that's what happens when you have to be nice all the time.

'_Kiss her_,' something whispers in his ear.

He turns to glare at his doll. It's Peppe, the little twat. A million different responses run through his head, but the only one that leaves his lips is

"Not yet."


	6. bicycle - bixanna

**See? BIXANNA.**

* * *

_bicycle - bixanna_

* * *

In the end, it was no great mystery why Lisanna and Bixlow became such close friends. After spending so much time as a third wheel, you start making your own set of two wheels.

They didn't look like they'd make a very good bicycle. He was too big, too weird. She was too tiny, too _normal_. They were unbalanced; the scales were tipped, although in whose favour was always a mystery.

But even if they were a bit lopsided, they managed to get along just fine.

And when one wheel is rusty or wobbling, the other can feel it. Which was why it was so painfully obvious to Lisanna that, today, Bixlow was not in a good mood.

"What's up, partner?" She asked, sitting on the table. He grunted, muttering something about not putting her ass where people at their food. She ignored him. One of his dolls flew up and bumped her in the nose, and she giggled. "Good morning, Pippi!"

'_Morning!_'

'_Bad mood_.'

Lisanna looked at Poppo in surprise, and Bixlow's face contorted. He snatched the doll out of the air and tossed him backwards, muttering, "Traitor." The other dolls flew after him, tittering in annoyance.

"Bixlow!" She cried. "That was mean! You really are in a bad mood."

"No." He said it like a pouty teenager. She wouldn't have been surprised if he stamped his foot.

"Bixlow."

"Lisanna."

She made a noise of frustration. "What is your deal!?"

"No deal!" He still wasn't looking at her, instead staring pointedly off to the side. Childish jerk.

She followed his line of sight. He was staring at the table that housed the fearsome foursome. Elfman and Evergreen were locked in another lovers spat. Mirajane and Freed watched, laughing, arms linked. The four of them worked well together. They didn't need anyone else. They didn't need a fifth.

"I heard some guy asked you out."

That surprised Lisanna. "Yeah, on the last mission I went on. Poor guy."

He still didn't look at her. "Why poor guy?"

"Well," she laughed. "Because Elfman beat him up. And then Mirajane beat him up. And...then I may have slapped him."

Still no turn, but he did crack a smile. "You, of all people?"

"Hey, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I believe you." The smile faded, ever so slightly. "So what, you beat him up for asking you out?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion marring her features. What was this about? "No, I hit him because he said some really rude things."

"So if a guy asked you out normally, you'd say yes?"

His dolls, in their impeccable wisdom, chose that moment to fly over and start speaking all at once. Floating around her head, she only managed to catch snatches of what they said.

'_Gonna leave us-'_

'_Third wheel again-'_

'_Can't be a unicycle-'_

'_Love you-'_

'_Lisanna!'_

She stared at them in surprise, while Bixlow finally turned and stared at them in horror. Understanding finally dawned on her face, and she grinned while looking at Bixlow.

"Depends on the guy," she said, answering his question from earlier. His face turned somewhere between red and green, embarrassment and anger vying for the dominant shade.

Then she leaned over and kissed him, his face angled up because she still sat on the table and he slouched on the bench. His dolls flew around their heads, cheering and making trumpet sounds, and for a moment the two of them were a perfectly tuned bicycle.

Until

"Hey! Get your face off my baby sister!"

"THAT IS NOT A MAN!"


	7. firsts - stiyu

**Gin you read my mind**

* * *

_firsts - stiyu_

* * *

_first sight._

He sees her at the back of the guild, and the second his eyes pass over her he forgets what she looks like.

Well, it's not like she's anything special, compared to the other women in the guild. She's just so...pale. Almost translucent. Some might have argued that she was beautifully understated. Sting couldn't bring himself to pay any attention. It was a simple '_this is Yukino Aguria, she's joining our guild'_ and that was that. Move along, next thing to focus on.

She's so forgettable, half the time he forgets she's in their guild.

_first words_.

Seven months and he still hasn't talked to her.

The Grand Magic Games are fast approaching, and for once Sting finds himself incurably excited for it. Unlike all the other years, when he couldn't bring himself to care – they were Sabertooth, of course they would win, they were undefeated – this year, Fairy Tail is back.

And not the idiotic members that had been participating beforehand. No, this year the _real_ members are back. Titania, Lightning Laxus, and most of all Natsu Dragneel.

His stomach has butterflies just thinking about it.

They've told him to go find the girl, because the Lady hasn't come back from her mission yet and they need a fifth member. He passes her in the guild hall, where she is sitting alone at a table and reading quietly. In fact he almost misses her, because she blends so well into the background.

He stops by her table, mouth opening and words coming out.

"_Master says you're gonna be part of our team."_

"_Okay."_

And that's that.

_first date._

It's an apology date, that's what he calls it. An apology for how he, and rest of the guild, treated her. He's the master now, it's his responsibility.

So he takes her out to a nice little sidewalk cafe, and they sit out under the evening sky. He buys her the most expensive thing on the menu, and afterwards he walks her home.

She thanks him for everything. She opens the door. She's about to step inside when Sting's mouth gets the better of him and he calls out, "_I'll see you at the guild tomorrow."_

Her surprised expression gives way to one of unmitigated pleasure, and her smile is more lovely than the sun when she answers. "_Okay._"

_first kiss._

After ten of them, Sting stops calling them apology dates.

It's been three months since the Games ended. Tonight, he takes her on a midnight stroll through the town's park. There's no one around, and away from all the lights of the city, they can clearly see the blanket of stars spread across the heavens. That's why they're here. He knows she will love the view.

Yukino is laughing, and twirling, her white skirt billowing around her legs. She looks soft as a cloud, with her chin tilted up and her warm eyes filled with pools of stars. That lovely smile is still gracing her lips.

Sting catches her elbow, stopping her mid-spin. Before she can stop smiling, before any other expression can cross her face, he kisses her, straight on her smile.

Her arms come to wrap around his neck. She pulls away for half a second, still smiling, and bites her lips shyly. So he kisses her again, and this time with so much exuberance that he lifts her right off the ground.

_first time._

Sting props himself up on one elbow, looking at the sleeping angel next to him. He didn't know anyone could naturally fall asleep looking like a princess from a storybook, but apparently Yukino can. Her arms lie by her head, her chest rising and falling gently. The sheet begins to slip off, and Sting lifts it back up.

There is only one window in his room, and it's directing a beam of moonlight right onto her face. Every curve of her cheek, every dip and dent is illuminated. The shadows on her face have all but vanished.

He remembers how she looked, flushed and panting and sweet, only moments before. Now only the thin sheen of sweat across her forehead gives any indication. She is beautifully understated, flawless, a stunning piece of artwork.

Sting doesn't know how he never noticed it before.

* * *

**and now the word 'first' sounds weird. Go on, SAY IT**


	8. difference - flaxus

**All aboard! SS Crackship Flaxus is leaving the harbour, this is your captain speaking. We currently have no passengers and are headed down a turbulent river of insanity! Climb aboard if you dare!**

* * *

_difference - flaxus._

* * *

She knew it was him, from the moment she saw his face. They didn't have the same eyes, no; nor the same hair, or nose, or lips, or cheekbones, or skin. Their eyebrows were vastly different, their teeth worlds apart. The idea that the two of them could be related was probably laughable to anyone else.

But Flare knew, the second her eyes landed on him, that _this_ was her master's son.

And of all the things she could remember about that day on the battlefield; greater than the smell of lightning burning her hair, or louder than the sound of Nullpudding screaming beside her; above all that, she could remember wondering how two men from the same family could be so very different.

x

"Hey, miss. Don't you think you've had enough?"

She glared at the bartender. His face was unnerved. Most people were after seeing her. She didn't exactly look normal. And now she was covered in bruises and scratches and all the makeup and clothing and hair in the world couldn't hide it.

"I'm paying you," she told him in a falsely sweet voice. "Shouldn't you be offering me more?"

The bartender cleared his throat, trying to swallow his nerves. Flare wanted to wrap her fingers around his throat.

"I'm just worried about you, miss, is all. Any more and you won't be walking out of here."

"I can take care of myself," Flare replied. And, keeping her eyes on him, she raised the glass to her lips and took another swig. His eyebrow began to twitch. Smacking the glass down, she licked her lips. "Another."

"I'm not sure I'll allow it, miss." He tried a different tactic. "You'll be drinking me out of stock. At least come back tomorrow when there's a refill."

Flare began to retort. She began, but she was rudely interrupted by a tall man in a black coat, who leaned on the bar beside her. "Give her one last drink, on me. And I'll take one, too."

The bartender started to grind his teeth. "Coming right up, sir," he managed out, and turned on his heel.

The man in the black coat sat down, and Flare's whole body stiffened. Even her crooked spine straightened out for a second. "You-"

"Relax." Laxus Dreyar held his hands up, in the universal gesture for surrender. "I got you back at the Games. An eye for an eye; we're score now."

His voice was warm, and deep, and slow, like honey. Flare relaxed, and hunched over again, hair drawing itself over her face like a curtain. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard my dad's guild was disbanded." The bartender appeared with their drinks. He slid Flare's toward her with distaste, and handed the other to Laxus with great sincerity. Laxus took it from his hand, and when their fingers touched, the bartender jumped as if given a small electric shock.

Flare almost smiled.

"Can't say I'm too disappointed," Laxus continued, taking a sip. "Although, it's probably too much to hope that they're disbanded for good."

"That'd be too much good luck for you," Flare hummed, and took another sip.

Laxus snorted. "You're probably right." Another swig.

"Some have remained," Flare told him, twirling her half-empty glass. "The most loyal remain by his side."

"You haven't."

Flare stopped twirling the glass. "I was exiled. I wasn't allowed to stay."

"Did you want to?"

Flare looked sideways at him. Half his mouth was turned up in a knowing smirk. She pushed her hair back and twisted on the stool, facing him completely. "Why are you asking?"

"Our inside man was discovered. We don't have an information source anymore."

"I always knew Gajeel was a traitor."

"If so, you're a better person than I thought. You never turned him in."

Flare's mouth closed rapidly.

"You've drank over three pints and ten shots since you came in," Laxus leaned forward, "and you still aren't the slightest bit tipsy. What kind of woman are you, Flare Corona?"

His eyes were electric blue. They were so _bright_, and so different from the deep, sunken holes of his father. Flare found herself leaning backwards. It was almost too much intensity.

"The kind that gets hit all of a sudden," she mumbled in reply.

"What?" Laxus' brows furrowed. Flare turned again, hair falling back into its shield.

"The alcohol," she said. "It hits me all at once. Always."

"Hm."

Flare took a deep breath, and rolled her head back on her shoulder. She looked at Laxus Dreyar through a tilted view. "Did you come here just to interrogate me about Raven Tail?"

Laxus smiled, sliding his glass away. "You're a sharp one."

A full-tilt, mad grin spread over her face as he rose from his stool. Her head was starting to buzz now, but not in the way she first intended upon arriving at the bar. Rather than a mind-numbing drone to ease her pain away, it was a pleasant, bubbly feeling, like someone was carbonating her blood.

When he reached the door, Laxus turned over his shoulder. "I also came to check on you," he called out to her. "Let you know, a good recipe for those bruises would be a steamy, hot bath."

"Laxus Dreyar, are you hitting on me?" Flare tutted, still grinning wildly. The whole bar was probably terrified of her now, with her odd angles and strange eyes. She found herself really not caring. "Your father would have some things to say about that."

"We've rebuilt the guild," he replied. "There's a new bathhouse, on the second floor."

"That's not an answer," Flare called. But Laxus was gone.

X

It made Flare wonder, as she lay in her cheap hotel room, head buzzing and blood carbonating, how a son could turn out so vastly different from his father. She supposed it had to do with his mother. She wondered what kind of woman Laxus' mother was. She must have been an angel.

Looking at the father of her old master, with his kind eyes and childish smile, it also made her wonder what in the name of all creation was Ivan Dreyar's mother like.


End file.
